The woods behind his house had always been a refuge, a familiar buffer of pine and shadow. But today, the path felt different under his feet. The air was thicker, richer, carrying scents of loam and blooming nightshade he’d never smelled before. The light was gilded and strange. Will Graham, an omega in a world where true alphas were ghosts of history, felt a primal unease shiver down his spine. He was about to turn back when a sound stopped him—the clear, sharp thwack of an axe splitting wood.

Instinct took over. He melted behind the broad trunk of an ancient oak, his heart hammering against his ribs. Peering through a screen of ferns, his breath caught in his throat.

There was a cabin. A solid, handsome structure he knew for a fact had never been there. And there was a woman.

She was… a vision. Dressed in little more than work pants and a thin tank top soaked with sweat, she was a study in powerful, effortless grace. The muscles in her arms and back corded and shifted with each movement, gleaming in the dappled, alien sunlight. His inner omega, a part of him he kept locked away and suppressed, surged forward with a dizzying, desperate hunger. Alpha.

The thought was a thunderclap. It was impossible. They were extinct. But his biology recognized the truth in the potent, clean scent of her that even from this distance made his head spin—a mix of pine resin and pure, undeniable strength.

He watched, utterly transfixed, as she set another log on the stump. She raised the axe, the arc of her swing a thing of pure, brutal beauty. The blade bit deep, but the log didn’t fully split. A flicker of annoyance crossed her features. Then, without a moment’s hesitation, she dropped the axe, grabbed either end of the partially severed log, and with a sharp, powerful twist of her torso and a low grunt he could just barely hear, she broke it in half over her knee.

The sound of the rending wood was the sexiest thing Will had ever heard.

His inner omega was practically panting, a whining, desperate thing in the back of his mind. Look at her. Look at that strength. She could protect a whole litter. She could build a den with her bare hands.

He was a stray dog staring at a wolf, a creature of such magnificent, untamable power that all he could do was want to kneel. This wasn't just desire; it was devotion.

"Sweet mother of God," he whispered, the words a hushed confession of shock and surrender.